Dio's World
by ShinyKendo
Summary: Somebody hired the wrong guy...


Here's a fan fiction that's very dumb. This was what I was busy doing while not continuing anything else, wasn't it. IT WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT. Just read it, and tell me if there should be a dumb sequel or sa horrible second chapter.

* * *

The famed Cookie Monster hid behind a brick wall. "Me lost the cookie…and Oscar put the cookie in the trash can…and he won't give it back! What me gonna do?" He writhed around in panic.

"Eh…" Oscar the Grouch pulled a cookie out from the trash can. "Not trashy enough! You can go get it, Cookie Monster!I know you're hiding back there!" He tossed it out onto the sidewalk like a Frisbee.

"Nooooo! Cookie Monster's cookiiiiiiie!" He chased after the contaminated snack food.

"Do dee do dee do…" Big Bird accidentally stepped on it, converting the cookie to a thousand pieces! This cookie reflected the monster's shattered dreams. "Oh! This must be your cookie, Cookie Monster! I'm so sorry! I can get you another cookie if you want!"

He came to a startling revelation. "No thanks," he told Big Bird. "Cookies are a sometime snack!"

"Well, I'm glad to see you thinking healthy! Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

"No, me fine!" And with that, they faded out so that we can all get to the real story...the show's ending segment.

The Count popped up onscreen, jolly as ever. "Elmo is out getting the chocolates for his friend Rosa! Because of this, we have a special guest substituting for Elmo!" He put one hand to his forehead and muttered as he walked off-screen.

At this time, the viewers came face-to-face with a whimsical hand-drawn (but CG-animated) house. The doors and furniture were doodled to life with crayon, with the only realistic-looking object being a single goldfish in an average fishbowl.

A deep sigh was heard. Un-charismatically walking out from beyond the side of the screen, an unwilling youngish man began to sing – or, more accurately, moan. "Na na na na, na na na na, Dio's – oh, screw this." He stepped away for a moment as bouncy music continued to play. He came back within a few seconds with _Breaking Dawn_ in his hands, then sat down on a cartoony chair to read it.

I guess his appearance shouldn't really be described, as earlier he was described and I made several errors, making it look tacky and terrible. It's better if I just break the fourth wall a bit and say...look him up.

The theme song ended, just in time for the man to finish reading _Breaking Dawn_. "Stupid not-vampires…should have never even **OH,** the show's started, hasn't it." He tossed the book backward out the window, which broke like glass. "I'm Dio Brando, and this is Dio's World. Guess what I'm thinking about today? …That's right. I'm thinking about –"

Viewers jumped into a montage of people running, set to the song Ride of the Valkyries. People ran in a marathon, ran into each other, ran over puppies, and, heck, just ran. This went on for quite some time.

"- running!" Dio spread his fingers apart and smiled in mock surprise. "…Yes, today's segment is about running! How complex and, um, interesting. So anyways, erm…oh, that's right, Dorothy has a question. Yes, the freaking goldfish has a question for us today. What's your question, Dorothy?"

He stepped over to the fishbowl, which now had a decorative tennis shoe model. "She asks, err…" He was surprised to find the questions _Why are you on the show? WHERE'S ELMO!__?_ relayed to him telepathically. "Dorothy asks, 'How do you run?' That's a very…_good_ question, Dorothy. Here to answer that for us is Mr. Noodle."

Right on cue, the window curtain rolled itself up, with a brown-mustachioed man in a spiffy outfit right outside of the cracked glass. He pushed _Breaking Dawn_ out of the way, so as to have more room to pull off zany stunts.

"Mr. Noodle, Dorothy wants to know how to run. Answer that complex question, if you will." Dio was more concerned with his fingernails than he was with the question.

Mr. Noodle nodded obediently, stepping over to the ready-made short marathon race props. He got into the first lane as a drumroll started up, building drama. Then he started walking towards the finish line!

"No, you fool! That's walking! Go back and do it like Dorothy told you to."

On the second attempt, he ran…off the track!

"Ah, that crazy fool, trying to get smart with me. Do it RIGHT this time, Mr. Noodle."

On the third attempt, he ran the track…and leaped over the finish line tape!

Dio sighed. "It's clear Mr. Noodle is not going to do this the way I intended." As he said this Mr. Noodle held up his hand to signal that he should wait for the next attempt. "Alright, you can do it a fourth time! Just get it over with!"

On the fourth attempt, he tripped and fell cartoonishly onto his belly halfway!

"Alright, then. If you're not going to do this the easy way, I guess I, Dio, will just have to _make_ you do it that way."

Mr. Noodle hurriedly ran the track, breaking through the finish line and everything.

"And it's a good thing he did that when he did," Dio remarked with crossed arms as the curtain pulled itself down, hiding Mr. Noodle's fear. "Oh well. I'm sure a bunch of kids will be able to better explain the goldfish's question. Let's watch."

Various kids gave various answers as bouncy music played. "You move the leg, and, and, you move da other leg, and, and, and that's how you run," said one.

"You run by walking fast!" said another.

"You learn how."

"Running is done by moving your legs very very fast."

Dio interviewed one kid in particular, holding an oriental-looking parasol. "So tell me about this, Jimmy. I hear you've run a mile?"

"I walked the first three-fourths of the way."

"Ah, so you know fractions. You're so smart."

"I am."

"…How do you think your parents and your friends and your teachers at school will react when they learn you're _lying?_"

"I dunno."

"You stupid kid! Do you even **know** what a genuine **truth** is! You might as well discard your humanity right now, because a good little **lying** boy like you will get **nowhere** in this world, except as a con man in the dark depths of jail and, eventually, beyond the gates of **Hell.**"

The boy sniffled.

"Meet me at my house later today, have some candy or something, and we'll have a little chat. And then you can have _everything_ apologized for. How does that sound, little Jimmy?"

"Okay."

Dio was in a room with a baby in a chair, which was held by other thingamabobbers just above the ground. "And now I'm going to ask a baby. Dear lord, what could this baby know that the goldfish doesn't. Tell me, baby, how do you run." He held the microphone to the baby, who babbled and wiggled its shoe-wearing legs mildly. "…That didn't teach us anything. Oh well. Now that that's over with, back to the show."

The viewers were back in the doodled-into-existence house. "Dio has a question for you. Do you like to run? …I can't hear your answer. Too bad, we're going on without you.

The computer table walked up to him, blaring "YOU'VE GOT MAIL. YOU'VE GOT MAIL" with the image of an envelope on its monitor.

"Aah! Bloody hell!" Dio stuck his fingers into his ears. "As soon as you stop that infernal racket I'll **read** the damned thing!"

"YOU'VE GOT MAIL. YOU'VE GOT MAIL."

He sighed. "This is not worth my time…" Begrudgingly he removed both hands from his ears and clicked on the envelope, opening the e-mail. "Oh, look, kids. It's a video e-mail from The Count."

"Hey, Dio! I've been watching your segment, and I realize that you are the worst children's show host I have ever seen in my life! I am even ashamed that you call yourself a _vampire!_ You've got no capes, no bats, no nothing! And look at that deeply offensive outfit you are wearing! How dare a self-respecting vampire as yourself dress like such a fool! That is all. Begone!"

"Hold on, kids, let me send a reply…" He typed some things into the computer and activated the video e-mail reply feature. "Hello, Count? F*** you." He ended the e-mail and spun around to face the viewers. "Well, it looks like it's time for the next segment of our show! God, how long is this show… Anywho, you're in luck, because it's time for our quiz segment! I swear you're going to get all of these questions right, they're so impossibly easy."

He opened a nearby jumping drawer, allowing some images to fly out onto the screen. This one showed four things: a human, a string, a bendy straw, and a doll. "Which of these things can run? …Of course, the person can. Nobody would honestly think that a f***ing straw could do anything let alone run."

Now viewers were shown four people, one of which was in a wheelchair. "Which of these people CAN'T run? …It's the one in the wheelchair, aka Johnny Joestar. Ahem, I'm sorry about that one. I added it in because I had nothing better to do."

Viewers were presently shown a canary. "Can THIS thing run? I'm sorry, but there was a bit of logic failure on this one. The script tells me that a canary only flies, but they are sadly mistaken. IT HAS LEGS. IT CAN RUN. Whoever made this blatant mistake will have to suffer dearly, for they wasted my precious time and energy. You'll meet my friend The World in the back of the studio when this is all over with."

"Here is our last quiz question for the day, folks. Can **Elmo** run?" People saw a picture of Elmo. "…You are never going to believe this, but yes! Apparently Elmo runs very fast." Viewers saw Elmo running a track race.

"I feel very, very sorry for the poor little dipsh** who got any of those questions wrong," Dio sighed. "Oh well. Enjoy these randomized clips of people running from various films."

That's exactly what people saw for a few moments.

Dio snapped his fingers and stopped it. "Let's just get this over with. I doubt any of you short attention-spanned kids even care anymore. I guess you'll just have to stay quiet so your parents don't sue me, and I'll hand the job over to the TV within the TV." A television leaped over to him, and he turned it on with a handy remote control.

"Today's subject: running, starring the Lecture Lady."

"How convenient that they're covering the subject today of all days." While the cartoon was going on, Dio was busy doodling. "I wish I had _Breaking Dawn_ back in here…"

"Come on, kids!" a lady in a cartoon sang. "Run run run, run because it's fun! Don't run to win, run to begiiiiin…a new chapter in liiiiiife…as a RUNNERRRRRRRR!"

"I'll turn this off before my brain implodes," Dio said, switching the television off promptly. "God, that was abysmal. Maybe our next segment will not be as utterly asinine as the last. Now we will have an "expert" on running appear at our doorstep, quite conveniently." He opened the door for…an ostrich. "Hello. Dio welcomes you. But Dio also wonders why the hell the script has sent him an ostrich."

"You silly kid!" Running Ostrich said. "Ostriches are some of the fastest running birds on this Earth! We can reach speeds of—"

"Excuse me, but I, Dio, am not a kid."

"Uhh…a-anyways, we can reach speeds of about **40 miles** per **hour!**"

"Well, how about I throw you out right now?"

"That's not very nice, you know!"

"It's my house, and I, Dio say f*** you. Go somewhere else where your annoying company is welcome: nowhere." He slammed the door in Running Ostrich's face. "I am _so_ glad that didn't take very long. Oh, look, there's a thought bubble above Dorothy's head. She must be daydreaming about something."

_Don't tell me this daydream involves me,_ Dio thought with a shudder.

In the daydream, Dio was sitting in Elmo's house, relaxing with a copy of _Breaking Dawn_. "I, Dio, am Dio, and that is I, and welcome to I, Dio's World, of Dio, and that is I," he said.

Suddenly, Elmo burst through the door running with a ping-pong paddle in one hand! "Yaaaaah!" he roared in true battle cry fashion.

"I, Dio, cannot be bea – aah!" He was too shocked to counter against Elmo hitting him repeatedly with the ping-pong ball.

"You impostor! You ruined the show!" Elmo barked, attacking relentlessly. Then Dio ran out the door like a coward, weeping the whole way down the street.

Dorothy spoke up in a calm voice. "You have done well, young Elmo."

"Aaaahahahahahaaaaaaa!" Elmo cackled heroically. Her daydream ended.

"That was…one of the most terrifying things I have ever seen on the set of a children's program," Dio concluded. "And finally, we reach the closing segment of the closing segment. Ostrich, you get the hell back in here." He flung the door open again, allowing Running Ostrich to hop back in.

"Oh, are we gonna sing a song?" Running Ostrich clarified.

"Right you are. What a clever bird. Anyways, you're going to sing the whole thing for me because I won't subject myself to that kind of mental torment."

"N-no way, Dio! You've gotta be the leader!"

"You be the leader, you shameless follower."

"B-but you're the substitute for Elmo! Be the leader!"

"I'm sure you can do it damn well yourself! Sing already!"

"I forgot the words…"

"Well, so did I. Good thing I did, too. …_You aren't singing!_"

Running Ostrich regrettably sang, to the tune of Jingle Bells, "Run run run, run run run, running's really great, run and jump and run some more and run in figure eights, oh, run run run, run run run, running's just okay, running makes you go real fast and lets you exercise! There, Dio, happy now?"

"Yes. Very. Because the show's over! Dorothy had better be happy too, because I'm never seeing her again, thank god. Whoever told me to do this show had better give me a million dollars in cash, or there will be hell to pay, mark my words. I now give your kids the obligatory "bye" and wave." Dio waved to whatever was left of the audience.

The episode ended.


End file.
